


Light of Stars and Shadow Following

by AdmirableMonster (Mertiya)



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Being Walked In On, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hair Kink, M/M, Noldor Hair Kink, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Difference, Valinor, finrod is a shameless hussy, humor and smut, things that are sexy for unusual cultural reasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:48:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28457082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/AdmirableMonster
Summary: Maglor meets Finrod after a concert.  Finrod's hair-style is quite scandalous.  One thing leads to another.
Relationships: Finrod Felagund | Findaráto/Maglor | Makalaurë
Comments: 18
Kudos: 74





	Light of Stars and Shadow Following

**Author's Note:**

> title from the Song of Beren and Luthien from the two lines.
> 
> "And light of stars was in her hair" and "And her hair like shadow following".

Telperion’s silvery light spread across the veranda.Makalaurë breathed in the sweet scents of the summer air as he slipped out of the concert hall.Normally, he would have stayed to drink in the praise for the concert he had just finished, but halfway through the performance, he had spotted Findaráto’s golden head near the back of the crowd, and he had no mind to miss his cousin this time.It had been far too long since they’d been able to slip off together.

He ran to the side of the veranda, looking across the gardens, the silver lake bounded with trees and rushes and lush, blooming flowers.There would be dancing soon, outside and inside, and if he did not find Findaráto before then, he was sure to have to endure a line of sycophantic admirers, and if he were very unlucky, Maitimo would be lecturing him on which of them he ought to entertain.If he were _exceedingly_ unlucky, his father would be the one lecturing him.

A hand caught at his wrist and pulled him sideways into the pale shadow of a nearby appletree, heavy with blossom.“I thought you might try to escape,” Ingo murmured in his ear.“Are you so unsatisfied with the poor attempts at praise of your adoring crowd?”

Makalaurë shook himself free and turned, pausing for a moment to look at the way Findaráto’s golden hair hung in scandalously loose curls across his shoulders.Three braids crowned his head, studded with pearls, but so much of the sheer volume of it was loose that it took Makalaurë’s breath away.“You are dressed…”

Findaráto grinned at him.“Káno, lost for words?” he teased.“I never thought I would see such a thing.”

“Your _hair_ ,” Makalaurë said faintly.“It’s…it’s unbound.”

“Nonsense,” Findaráto told him.“I’ve braided pearls into it.”

“Not _all_ of it!”Makalaurë reached out, and then he felt his cheeks warming.“Everyone must have seen you like that,” he said accusingly.“All your hair…”

“Jealous?”Findaráto reached out and tweaked a lock of Makalaurë’s hair loose from one of its carefully done braids, and he actually squeaked with shock.

“Ingo!”

Findaráto hummed in amusement.“Can an Elf not play with his little cousin’s hair without causing a scandal?”

Makalaurë swatted him.“What are you playing at, Ingo?”

“I—” Findaráto stalled out, a blush coloring his face.“Do you really not know?”

Rolling his eyes, Makalaurë stepped past him.“Know what, my teasing cousin?I was hoping we might dance by Telperion’s light, but if all you can do is scandalize me with your—your shameless Teleri—intrigue—”

Findaráto burst out laughing, and the sound thrilled Makalaurë down to his toes, though he wasn’t quite certain why. 

“Ai, Káno, my father is not quite so ill-mannered as all that,” he retorted.“You have been listening to yours again.”

“Well, I do not do so intentionally,” Makalaurë grumbled.“But seeds sowed a thousand times have a way of taking root.Then _may_ we dance by Telperion’s light?If you are quite finished making fun of me?”He did not quite dare to look back at Ingo, afraid of where his gaze might linger.

“Káno—”

“I will sing, just for you,” Makalaurë told him gayly.“Would you like that?”

“Very much indeed, yes.Káno, please—” 

Makalaurë’s heart was thundering in his chest for some reason as he hurried towards the wide stone steps down to the lake and gardens.“Then—then come along?”

“ _Káno_.Wait a moment, please.”His voice sounded pleading, stripped off teasing, stripped of everything but a queer longing that Makalaurë was certain he had never heard in his cousin’s light and airy tones.He turned, against his better judgement, halfway down the flight of stone stairs, to see Findaráto there, the silvery light of Telperion caught in his flowing, golden hair.Makalaurë swallowed hard.

“Not everything I say is frivolous, cousin,” Ingo told him softly, descending the steps and reaching out to take his hand.“I—” he paused, then took a long, deep breath before continuing.“I wish to see thee with thy hair unbound.”

Makalaurë prided himself upon his eloquence and poise.He often felt capable of rivaling Maitimo at the diplomatic table, although it was not where his interests lay.So it was rather a blow to his pride to find that he was opening and shutting his mouth like a dying fish before finally getting out, “You _what_? _Why_?”

Findaráto was blushing more now, staring down at his feet.“The…the usual reason?”

The tips of Makalaurë’s ears felt as if they were aflame.It was not that he had _never_ had a suitor before, but most of them had been too afraid of Fëanáro to press their suit with great ardor, and in any case, he had mostly enjoyed the attention.Ingo, though—Ingo was his _friend_.They sang together—sometimes quite ribald songs indeed—and danced together and laughed together.They knew each other inside and out.It had never occurred to Makalaurë that he might have such things _and others_.

He considered Maitimo and Findekáno.He thought, if Nelyo knew— _how_ he would laugh.He swallowed and trembled and did not answer.

“If you do not wish the same, it is all right,” Findaráto told him gently, still halfway up the steps, not quite looking at him.“It would be a blow to my pride, I suppose, but I would not wish to lose your friendship over—”

“The braids took hours,” Makalaurë interrupted him.“Wilt thou help me do them up again—after?”

Findaráto looked up, those sweet grey eyes shining with Telperion’s light.“…hours?” he echoed, sounding slightly faint.

Makalaurë grinned.“Hours,” he said firmly.

His cousin, very obviously, swallowed hard.“Thou wouldst use my fingers cruelly,” he said, holding out his hand.“But I am willing, Káno.”

Feeling giddy and terrified and elated all at the same time, Makalaurë took it.They ought to hurry.In moments, the rest of the crowd would be making their way through the doors onto the veranda.Thinking quickly, he tugged Findaráto down the steps and around to the back of a high stone bench whose elaborately-carved floral motif presented a solid barrier between themselves and anyone strolling through the gardens.Really, the only way they might be seen would be if someone decided to stroll _through_ the hedge behind them.

They knelt beside each other, giggling with nerves as much as anything, and then Makalaurë reached out, feeling absurdly daring—but so much of Findaráto’s hair _was_ already unbound—and stroked his fingers down the silken tresses. His cousin shivered a little, but did not protest, and Makalaurë grew bolder, sinking one hand into his hair and combing through it.His breathing sped up, his heart pounding.He had sung dozens of romantic songs about moments like this and several bawdier ones as well, which ought to have made him quite an expert.But nothing had prepared him for the way Findaráto waited patiently, the heady way his hair felt, running like molten gold through Makalaurë’s hands.He plucked pearls from his cousin’s hair, one at a time, and tucked them carefully beneath the hedge for safekeeping.

“May I reciprocate?” Findaráto asked him, and Makalaurë, ears burning, nodded.His cousin’s hands kited along the lobe of both ears for a moment, then swiftly tweaked off the jewel-studded hairnet holding the curled weight of his hair confined above his shoulder-blades.He felt it as the braids uncoiled beneath Findaráto’s hands, and he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Findaráto’s, feeling his cousin’s breath quicken, his pulse pound, heart thumping against Makalaurë’s.

The weight of his own hair upon his shoulders was something he had never felt in company of someone other than his mother or his father or his brothers.It drew a shocked little sound from his throat as Findaráto’s slim fingers began to draw out hair-pins and tweak apart strands.One finger brushed over the knob of his spine, and a stunned moan dropped from his mouth.Makalaurë hid his burning face in Findaráto’s neck.

“What lovely noises,” Findaráto laughed.“You sound more like a sparrow than a gull for once.”

“I am _neither_ ,” Makalaurë returned hotly, knowing Findaráto said it to draw out his reaction, quite unable to avoid giving it all the same.“I am—I am— _ah_ —Ingo—”Fingers sank into his hair and _twisted_ , pulling his head back, and it was utterly overwhelming.Makalaurë’s clothes were too hot, constricting and weighting him down.He leaned forward, his breathing quick and sharp, and began to comb his hands through Findaráto’s hair again, freeing all three braids.Pearls rained down to the earth below with soft little noises.

“K-Káno—”Findaráto’s hands slid around to his cheeks and cupped his face as Findaráto bent to kiss him deeply, and now _he_ was moaning as Makalaurë ran his hands ceaselessly through his soft hair.

This was the most scandalous thing Makalaurë had ever done.He wondered, vaguely, what Maitimo would say.He did not want to _think_ about what his father would say.

Locks of his own hair fell about his face.The braids were unraveling rapidly under the heavy weight of his own long hair.Findaráto reached up and plucked his jeweled headdress from off his head and laid it beside the hairnet in the grass.“Káno, your hair is—”He took a handful of it in his hand, and Makalaurë stared, his lips parted, his breath coming in short pants, as Findaráto twisted their hair together.He felt a swift, soft touch on his mind.

Makalaurë whimpered, clutching at Findaráto’s robes.His cock was leaking—he’d only just noticed—and he thought all the light touches might drive him mad.He tried to cobble together an idea of what was supposed to happen next from the songs he’d heard and the songs he’d sung.One of Findaráto’s hands slipped down his waist, and he gasped and rolled his hips.“Please,” he got out, but he wasn’t certain what he was pleading for.

Findaráto’s mouth nipped at his throat.His hair brushed against Makalaurë’s face.Makalaurë made an embarrassing, obscene noise that he could barely believe had come from his own throat. 

“What do you want, Káno?” Findaráto asked urgently.There was a flush growing on his cheeks.

“I don’t know,” Makalaurë whispered, biting his lip and looking away in embarrassment.He was aching; he was on fire.He combed his hands helplessly through his cousin’s hair.His own hair hung in loose waves over his shoulders, utterly debauched.

“Clothes off first?” Findaráto said, thickly, hopefully.

That, Makalaurë considered, was a truly excellent idea.“Yes,” he agreed shakily.He plucked ineffectually at Findaráto’s robe, which was much more ornate than his hair had been.

“I’ll get it,” Findaráto told him.“You get yours.”

Nodding jerkily, Makalaurë laid back on the grass to undo and drag off his leggings and nether clothes.He didn’t bother with his tunic or robes; the grass was damp with dew and chilly enough against his legs.He looked up.Findaráto had his robes open, and his golden hair was spilling across his slim chest.Makalaurë gasped, shoving a hand into his mouth and biting down on it.Sensation spiked in his belly.

“Ingo,” he demanded, shaky and muffled, “come here.”

Findaráto’s grey eyes looked almost black.He pressed himself down onto Makalaurë’s chest, pulled his hand down, and kissed him hard.Makalaurë gasped and groaned, reaching up against to twist his hands in the no-longer-forbidden golden locks.They were both moaning and moving and perhaps—perhaps this would be enough.Perhaps this _should_ be enough, but Makalaurë wanted more.He could feel Findaráto’s hard cock trapped between their bellies, and he remembered, dizzily, the subject of one of the songs they had performed together in the privacy of Ingo’s room months ago.“Can,” he swallowed.They had already _unbound their hair_ , he reminded himself, what was a little more debauchery?“Can you get it inside me?”

He felt Findaráto’s cock twitch against his thigh.“Yes, please,” he squeaked, voice cracking.“If you want, Káno.”

“I _want_.”He grabbed handfuls of Findaráto’s hair, reveling in his ability to twist them around his hands and drag Findaráto’s head back, listening to Findaráto’s gasping, desperate cries.

“If you keep doing that, I will not be able to do what you want,” Findaráto told him hoarsely.“I cannot _possibly_ concentrate enough to—”

“All right, all right.”Makalaurë let himself lie back on the grass, looking up at Findaráto.A thought struck him, and he ran his hand through his own hair, twisting and combing it.His cousin stared, breathing hard, as if he could not look away.Makalaurë smiled darkly.“Am I not lovely, cousin?”

Findaráto blinked several times, then managed a laugh.“My littlest cousin, who cries when he does not get what he wants?Maitimo’s brat?”

Makalaurë scowled at him.“If you do not _want_ me, you need only return to the concert hall,” he said frostily.“There are many who would give their braids to be in your position.”

“Ai, Káno, perhaps they would not want you if they knew how demanding you are.”The tip of his cock was brushing against the bottom of Makalaurë’s thigh, and it was sticky with fluid.

“ _Demanding_!” Makalaurë retorted hotly.“I am offering—”

“Thou art _demanding_ ,” Findaráto told him, and then reached out to mantle a hand through the dark waves of hair Makalaurë had let him unbind.“But, yes, Káno, thou art indeed lovely.”

He leaned forward, and Makalaurë felt him move his cock until the tip of it was resting against his entrance.He flushed and found himself trembling.“That’s—do you think it will fit?” he mumbled, suddenly losing track of his attempt at seduction.“You’re—much bigger than I am.”

“We don’t have to.”Findaráto shifted to sit sideways on the grass between Makalaurë’s legs.“Let me try with a finger first.I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Stop being so nice!” Makalaurë flashed.“Must you always be the perfect, golden hero and I your shadow cousin?”

Hurt flickered in Findaráto’s grey eyes.“Forgive me for trying not to hurt you, cousin,” he said frostily, and Makalaurë felt his own gaze drop as he looked to the side, taking a deep breath.

“I—I’m sorry,” he said, after a moment.“We have already unbound our hair, but I am still—I am still nervous,” he finished in frustration.

“Hush, idiot,” Findaráto told him, smoothing his hair gently back from his forehead, which made Makalaurë’s heart flutter.“Do you think I am not?”

Makalaurë’s chest went tight at his words.“Try with a finger, then, please,” he said.The next moment, he yelped as Findaráto prodded his hole.“Ouch!That _hurts_!”

“And that is why we tried with a finger first.”Findaráto frowned.“I am certain there _must_ be a way to make this work.”

“It happens in all the songs,” Makalaurë agreed, reaching his own hand down to poke at the hole himself. 

“Perhaps if I am gentler?” Findaráto said doubtfully.

“Perhaps if you use something to ease the way,” Makalaurë suggested.“It is the _dragging_ that seems to hurt the most.”He considered.“And I have noticed Maitimo secreting pots of oil when Findekáno visits.Have you anything of the sort?”

The flush on Findaráto’s face, which had started to fade as they conversed, flamed with renewed vigor and spread to his ears.“I,” he said.“Well.”He swallowed convulsively and whispered something Makalaurë could not hear.

“What?”

“I said, I have this pot of—of—of hair oil,” Findaráto stammered.

Makalaurë’s breath stopped in his lungs, and black dots swirled at the edge of his vision for a moment.“That you use in your _hair_?” he squeaked.

“Well—y-yes, that is what I use hair oil for.Most of the time.That’s why it’s called hair oil.”

“I might faint,” Makalaurë told him, not sure if he was joking or serious.

“We don’t have to.”Findaráto sounded more wretchedly embarrassed than he had the entire evening.

“No!” Makalaurë cut in, immediately.“No, please— _please_ —”His cock was hard and aching and leaking, and he could not imagine being left like this now.“Do it,” he said firmly.

Findaráto’s mouth dropped open, and he made a needy, desperate noise, then began frantically patting down his robes until he pulled out a small vial.His hands were obviously shaking, and he had to try several times to get it open.Once he’d finally managed, once he’d hastily spilled it across his fingers, the scent of it burst into Makalaurë’s nose—the scent of Findaráto’s hair, overwhelming and sensual.He whimpered.

“Relax,” Findaráto murmured, bending over him.His lips pressed into Makalaurë’s, and one slick finger pressed at Makalaurë’s hole again—and this time it slipped inside.Makalaurë groaned shakily at the intrusion.“Is that all right?”

“It’s—it’s much better—” he gasped.“ _Nnngh_.”It felt strange, and it still hurt a little, but not the same way. 

“Tell me when I do something right and when I do something wrong.” Findaráto moved his finger in and out, “ _yes_ ,” tried to roll it, “no—not that—” and then, pushing it in deeper, did _something_ that made Makalaurë see stars and robbed him of breath and words entire.

“Was that—was that a good noise or—”

“ _Ai Eru do that again please_ ,” Makalaurë managed, somehow, and Findaráto whimpered softly and did.“More, more, _more_ ,” Makalaurë begged, and he felt his cousin add a second finger and gently spread them apart, which felt _strange_ , but it didn’t hurt, and if it meant he could get Findaráto’s cock inside him, he wasn’t going to complain.

“Oh—oh, Káno, I need you,” Findaráto said hoarsely.Makalaurë reached up and caught at his hair again.It was no longer even remotely bound.How had he thought the way Ingo was wearing it earlier was tempting or tantalizing?He hadn’t known what it would look like for those golden strands to be totally free, one or two of them clinging sweatily to Findaráto’s face. 

“Need you, too,” he gasped.“Please, Ingo.”

He felt Findaráto’s fingers leaving him, and he whined and squirmed, trying to cling onto them.“Shhh, shhh, _melindo,_ thou must let me go so I can—”

“No, no, don’t leave me—don’t leave me—”

“I’m not leaving thee,” Findaráto laughed.“I am _trying_ to get more inside thee.”

His fingers were gone, and then his cock was back.It still felt impossibly big.Ingo wasn’t as tall as Nelyo, but he was quite a bit taller than Makalaurë, and he was clearly proportioned to match.Makalaurë bit his lip.“ _Do it_ , Ingo, please—”

“Should I—slowly?”

“No,” Makalaurë said, recklessly.“As fast as you c— _ngh_.”It was too big, it was too much, it was—he gasped, listening to Findaráto grunt as the head of his cock forced its way past the resistance and in.Makalaurë let his head fall back as it filled him.There _couldn’t_ be any more—he couldn’t _take_ anymore—but there was, and he did.

“All—all right?” Findaráto’s voice was trembling and low.“Y-You’re—very—tight.”

Makalaurë sobbed, overwhelmed. 

“Káno?Should I—stop?”

“No— _no_.”Findaráto’s hair smelled of roses and saltwater.“Just—just let me—adjust, please?”

He felt Findaráto’s weight pressed to his chest, Findaráto’s lips in his hair.“Whatever you need,” his cousin mumbled, sounding dazed.“Ai, it’s—it’s _good_ , Káno, I never imagined—not like _this_ —”

“Shouldn’t have doubted me,” Makalaurë got out.“Eru, Ingo, you’re so big.”

“Perhaps a little too big for such a tiny cousin,” Findaráto murmured.

“I can _take_ it!” Makalaurë rolled his hips and moaned brokenly.“Move, then, if you do not believe it!”

“Káno, I really was not trying to goad you that time—well, perhaps a little,” he amended, seeing the way Makalaurë’s eyes must have flashed.

“Next time,” Makalaurë said, dreamily, discovering that if he made only small motions with his hips rather than large ones, being filled up like this was very, very nice indeed, “next time you can take me on my front so you can put your hands in my hair and move me about with it.Like the reins of a horse.”

“ _Káno_.”He had shocked Findaráto, finally, evidently.“That is—”

“A thought of interest?”

“The _filthiest_ thing you have ever said, I have half a mind to wash your mouth out with soap.”

“But it is of interest.”

“I—ah—” he groaned, and Makalaurë felt him starting to move inside him. 

“ _I_ am not the one who came to my cousin with hair shamelessly half-unbound,” Makalaurë reminded him.

“Ai, Káno, sweet Káno—”

There was a sound of cracking twigs and branches and the noise of someone shouting, and Makalaurë squeaked and rolled up on his elbow as a large, excited form burst out of the hedge with tail wagging.A thoroughly unexpected tongue licked the top of his head happily.

“Huan, what are you doing h—oh no.Ingo, get out of me, get—”

“I can’t!”Findaráto’s face was flushed and terrified.“You’re too—”

Someone called Huan’s name. 

“Go on!” Makalaurë shoved at him.“Get out of here!”Huan clearly felt no need to obey him, because he licked Makalaurë again and then went over on his back, wagging his tail.It brushed Makalaurë’s nose, and he sneezed miserably.Findaráto grabbed his robe, throwing it rapidly around Makalaurë’s shoulders, and pulled him up into his lap, covering them with it.Makalaurë yelped with pain.

“Sorry,” Findaráto apologized breathlessly.“Sorry, sorry, just—”

“Huan, where are you?” Tyelkormo’s head poked out of the hedge.“You big idiot.Oh, hello, Káno.Ingo.”For an instant, Makalaurë thought they’d gotten away with it, and then his little brother’s eyes widened.“Your _hair_!” he said, at the top of his lungs, in a tone more shocked than Makalaurë had ever heard from Tyelko.

Makalaurë froze, hissing in his breath, his entire body clenching.Findaráto moaned softly in his ear.“I…” he said.“Um, I lost a hair pin and…Ingo was helping me look for it?”

“Ingo’s hair is down too!”Tyelko was obviously trying not to look at his cousin. 

“Yes, he was stupid enough to get his hair caught in the hedge helping me,” Makalaurë lied frantically.“I wasn’t _looking_ at it.”

“ _I am inside you_ ,” Findaráto hissed into his ear.

“ _Shut up, it’s Tyelko, he’s stupid_ ,” Makalaurë hissed back.

“You’re idiots,” Tyelko told them dismissively.“Just don’t let Atar catch you like that, Káno.Come on, Huan.”

They were both trembling as Huan and Tyelko dashed off.Makalaurë pressed his face into Findaráto’s shoulder and laughed desperately, and his cousin held him tightly, giggling uncontrollably as well.Taking a deep breath, Findaráto slowly laid Makalaurë back into the grass.“And I thought you were tight _before_ ,” he said helplessly.

“Mmmm.”Makalaurë stretched luxuriously, gasping at the motion of Findaráto’s cock inside him when he did that.“I suppose you’ll just have to fuck me open again.”

“As long as there are no more surprise brothers,” Findaráto said darkly.“Next time you might break it _off_.”

“Thank Eru it was Tyelko,” Makalaurë said softly.“ _Ahhhhh_ —Ingo—like that—”

“Oh, you like that?”

“You—mmm—yes—” Makalaurë said faintly.He sank his hands into Findaráto’s hair again.He thought, vaguely, that he probably ought to be quiet—if Tyelko had found them someone else might notice—but the next instant he was moaning and calling out Findaráto’s name at the top of his lungs as Findaráto started to thrust inside him earnest.Findaráto wasn’t much quieter.

It didn’t last very long after that.Makalaurë slipped a hand frantically down between his legs to stroke himself.Findaráto, cursing, leaned down and looped a strand of his hair around Makalaurë’s cock, and Makalaurë stared at it for an instant, all thoughts and reason fleeing from his mind at the sight of the gold looped about him like that, and then he was _lost_ —his face pressed into soft roses and seawater, his voice surging, pure pleasure surging through him.Findaráto’s hands on his back anchored him until he slumped back, shivering and gasping, and then his cousin was thrusting into him twice more before he felt Ingo’s cock pulsing inside him.Ingo slumped down on top of him.

“All right,” he murmured, after a little.“Tyelko notwithstanding, that was…amazing.”

“Mmm,” Makalaurë agreed.He looked up.Blossoms were floating down on top of them from the top of the hedge.“Let’s do this again soon,” he said.“But perhaps…perhaps behind closed doors.”

“Yes,” Findaráto agreed firmly.

* * *

Several hours later, Makalaurë limped back home with his hair in a simple plait down his back.He was very sore, and it was very late, but he was humming happily to himself as he pushed open the door—and looked up to see Maitimo sitting in the hallway, one eyebrow raised.

“Hello, brother,” Makalaurë said lightly, trying not to be self-conscious about how rumpled his robes were or the way Maitimo was looking very sarcastically at the simple hairstyle he had most definitely not left wearing.

“Atar was concerned when you did not return,” Maitimo told him.“I said I would wait up for you.I am glad to see you are unharmed.”

“Of course.I’m sorry if I worried you, Ingo and I got sidetracked working on a new composition.”

“Hm,” said Maitimo.“Well, you are well into your majority, so there’s little for me to say, except perhaps let us know the next time you’re going to vanish for that long.”

One of the doors at the top of the hallway opened, and Tyelko poked his head out.“Káno!” he called, cheerfully.“Did you find your hair-pin?”

Makalaurë felt the smile dropping off his face.“Um…” He tried to pull a _shut up_ face at Tyelko, but it really wasn’t possible to convey something to Tyelko that Nelyo wouldn’t pick up on.

“And did Ingo get his hair done back up?” Tyelko continued.

Makalaurë sighed, his shoulders slumping.He looked cautiously at Maitimo, whose lips were twitching suspiciously.There went all his ammunition on his older brother.

“Yes,” he sighed.“Ingo—got his hair done back up.”

He started to head for the stairs.Maitimo caught his sleeve.“You have petals and leaves all over your nice robes,” he said, his voice sounding very much as if he were trying not to laugh.“Perhaps next time you and Ingo decide to, mmm, work on a composition, you should do it indoors.”

“Yes,” Makalaurë agreed glumly.“I said as much to him myself.”He started up the stairs, then turned and looked back.“ _Do_ tell Finno hello from me the next time he’s here.”

“Oh, I will.”

“What are you two talking about?” Tyelko called.

“Oh, nothing!Just how much we love our cousins.”Makalaurë winked at Maitimo as he headed up the stairs, and his brother gave him a wave and then turned away to hide his laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to 8Lottie8 for "if you undo them you'll have to help me do them up again"
> 
> thanks to daphnerunning for letting me be just generally feral about this ship at her and for Dumb Tyelko Headcanons


End file.
